this soul is a summer storm
all rolling lightening words
are a thunder that shake
the river loose from its bed
tell me tell me where to put this
unearthed city unburied
a centuries old corpse
dust of parched blood blowing
in this unrelenting wind the rain
the rain makes the streets run red
memorandums from some appropriate
autocrat call for new street cleaning machines
we must not see oh tell me tell me

please please tell me where